


in the fire, in the flames

by woojinisms



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Epistolary, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Unconventional Formatting, apparently its JUST angst, maybe he's dead maybe he's not, mentions of the blue lions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22152622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woojinisms/pseuds/woojinisms
Summary: [...] and the two never met again. Years later, a sword that was thought to have belonged to Felix arrived on Sylvain's doorstep.alternatively: words left unsaid, words left unsent, and words read, by a party of one.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46





	in the fire, in the flames

**Author's Note:**

> come si dice its closure. sort of. nervous laughter if only they could maybe... stay together?? that would be nice. until then, this
> 
> based on the sylvix paired ending from the non-BL routes, but set in a timeline where the kingdom still exists.

_A sword on a doorstep. Years gone by; a still familiar insignia. Fraldarius._

_A letter. The first, of a few; stacked on top of the others, bound to the sword’s hilt with string._

_The paper is old and yellowed and reminiscent of the letters sent up north by His Majesty. Those had been requests from the state, warnings of ruffians from the south. All of them addressed personally from an old friend, made long before the mending of Fodlan had commenced._

_This one, however, is carefully sealed with a small drop of wax. Clear._

_There are no family arms distinguishing the first of the stack, nor the rest._

* * *

Margrave Gautier

Guardian Moon 2 1193

~~You know that~~

It has been long since we have last spoken. I write to you now from what was once Alliance territory. We both know that I will be long fucking gone by the time this reaches you. 

~~I write this letter hoping that~~

I have nothing to apologize for. I am not sorry for leaving Faerghus.

There's nothing to forgive. 

I've heard news that the Fraldarius property has been redistributed by the Kingdom, at my request. I've heard news that you asked for the manor. It's Gautier property now, I suppose, but better to someone familiar than to someone strange. 

~~Tha~~

Sincerely,

Felix H. Fraldarius 

* * *

_A second. The wax is red and sticks to the letter above it. Unsigned, but the handwriting matches the first — messier, here; each word is a few letters into trailing lines, but matches nonetheless._

* * *

Margrave Sylvain Gautier

Pegasus Moon 16 1195

Sometimes I wonder if you might die before I kick the bucket myself. People always bring in news, of the capital and of the Gautier territory, and I am reminded that you somehow cannot die. Are you waiting for me? 

A joke. 

I think I should confess that I snapped your favourite training lance once. I was sixteen. It's not really my fault. It was entirely my fault, but you were fucking around in town that night and I hated the idea of it, so I broke your lance. 

I think you knew about it. You were not as angry as I had hoped you would be. 

~~I’m fucking crazy for this I think the Sylvain in my head i~~ ~~~~

* * *

_A third, damaged by water. Must have been the rainy season. A dripping in the tent, a leak in the roof. By the ocean. Near Brigid, maybe._

_The penmanship is slow, careful, ink pooling in the curves and dips of words where ink should not pool. Hesitation. Consideration._

_Where the pen does not hesitate, it races against something imaginary, borders on something frantic. Desperate, if you will._

* * *

Margrave Sylvain Gautier

Lone Moon 16 1196

You used to ask me — remind me — of that promise we made when we were young. It was a long time ago. I might be the one to break that promise. 

It is late now but I am reminded of it.

The battle is over. There is something appealing about being healed. Like being born again, yet far from it at the same time. It is warm here; much warmer than I am accustomed to. I may consider keeping my hair at a shorter length. 

I feel as if I move slower now. It is not my blade that has dulled, but rather, myself, I believe. You, on the other hand, have been bonded to the back of a horse for as long as I can remember. ~~Do you still?~~ Are you, still? 

Bandits. A lot of them, much more than we were prepared for — much less how many we had anticipated. Naturally, I fought them alongside my group. 

Their leader knew how to wield a lance. ~~Reminded me of when we used to spar, actu~~

Upon second thought, he was clumsy. Seiros, he guarded his left side poorly. Unfortunately, that did not make him much easier to fight. He was fast. Strong. 

Do you visit the old Fraldarius estate? Glenn and Rodrigue are both gone, and I've left ~~, so there's no one left to take~~

Never mind that. 

I won't ask you to take care of the estate. I've taken the things I've needed, anyway. You have permission to knock it down, if that's what you want. You should get rid of it. Use it for something useful. There's no use in hoarding pieces of the past. 

~~I do not want to break our pro~~

I cannot find it in myself to go back. I do not think I am in Fodlan tonight. I may not be for the next week. Longer, if I like it out here.

Felix 

* * *

_A fourth, a fifth, a sixth. Some are sealed, some unsealed. All of them worn to varying degrees. As if kept; stored, in a box, in a folder, of sorts, next to a candle, next to the heart._

* * *

Sylvain Gautier 

Harpstring Moon 17 1197

How is Annette? Have you spoken much since I was last with you all? Does she still sing those songs? Has she ever stopped?

I hate to admit it, but I miss her. I miss you too, I think. (You might say here: much like your blade, the years have dulled your tongue, Felix. 

I confess that I do not hate you, but I did resent you. For what, I will not disclose. ~~Maybe another time~~ )

It is her birth month. I recall at least that much. Next month will be yours. I hope your birthday is a day filled with joy. ~~I miss you~~.

Yours, 

Felix Fraldarius 

* * *

Sylvain

Garland Moon 5 1197

Happy birthday. This will not reach your estate in time. 

I leave similar comments in many of my letters, as if they will ever reach you. As if I even write this shit with such an intention. I believe it gives me some semblance of legitimacy. I hope you are surrounded by your friends. If not, then good company, at least. 

I did fucking resent you. For not being there. You were, but you weren't, and it took me a long time for me to realize what was going on with Miklan. 

After that, I began to resent myself. 

I looked up to you. Glenn spoke highly of you, and you were strong. I never knew how to draw the line between "admiration" and "something else". Take that how you will. 

I think I've grown one of those "sense of humour" things you used to nag me about all the time. I keep signing these as "Yours," when we both know I'm not yours to begin with. Never obtained the right, I guess. Never took the time to.

I heard you never married. The rumours say you stopped chasing after people the way you used to, men and women alike.

 ~~What were you waiting for?~~

Why did you wait?

Yours, 

Felix h Fraldarius 

* * *

Sylvain

Verdant Moon 14 1198

It seems that peaches are in season, but when you get this letter, they will definitely not be in season anymore. 

Almost twenty fucking years, and I still remember that you loved the dining hall’s sorbet. You, Ingrid, and Annette. 

I’m by the water. It’s warm here. The Empire territory near Brigid still feels a little tense, but it might come from being next to someone who is still stranger to you. 

But, I suppose, that is what I did to you when I left. I don’t believe the manor is all you kept for yourself. There must have been land, too. Bound by an old duty, Sylvain? Doesn’t sound much like you. 

Regardless, I’m grateful. 

I don’t regret the mercenary work I’ve done. Nor do I regret the fighting or the travelling. My most notable regret may be losing the years we could have spent together. 

I really would not have stayed. If I had another chance to, I would not have kept the Fraldarius property. 

I wish you could try these peaches. I am not a lover of sweets myself, ~~you know that.~~ Maybe you don’t, anymore, but the fresh fruit is delicious. I send my best to everyone else, as well. 

With love,

Felix

* * *

  
  
  
  


_Seven is worse for wear. The handwriting is shaky, barely legible in places._

_The letter itself appears to have been crumpled, and then flattened out and placed beneath a large tome, a heavy satchel, to press it back to what it was before._

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

Sylvain

Wyvern 30 1198

Sometimes, I wake up in the morning and my hands shake. I like to believe that it is a part of ageing. I think we both know that it is not. Not at this fucking age, at least. 

A few of the other mercenaries suggested the possibility that I have been having nightmares. I am not Dimitri. 

You hired me once. I do not understand why, even now, because I know you could have handled it. ~~You also had the Lance of Ruin~~. You never liked using it.

There was no reason for you to hire me for that battle. I think it was pirates, but it could have been bandits. Thieves? I don't remember. I don't care to, either, because it was a stupid fucking battle. 

~~The only reason I can come up with is that you wanted to see m~~

It will remain a secret, then. I may never know. 

I left because we were too fucking close to the war. A new land built on spilt blood. I think you knew that I couldn't stay in one place, not when it was like that. My whole family. It's not Dimitri's fault. He was just there. It's not yours, either ~~, but I~~.

It's not your fucking fault. I’m still not sorry for leaving. 

I am not sorry, but that does not mean that I regret nothing. 

I still think I might be the one to break our promise. This job is not easy, but I am not weak, either. I am growing older.

~~Yours~~ ~~,~~ ~~With love,~~

Sincerely, 

Fe

* * *

_A last. Written, but never sent. Marked with a date, but no year. Kept at the bottom of a stack on the Margrave Gautier's personal desk, the newest in a set of faded, worn letters._

_A final draft, of sorts._

* * *

Felix Fraldarius

20 Pegasus Moon

I remember this poem I read, once. I forget the title, but I still remember the end of it. It went something like this. 

> you are the forever of things you've folded away for tomorrow.
> 
> tucked in the creases of your sleeves
> 
> to pull out one day when you are bigger.
> 
> Faster. Stronger. 

Neat poem, right? Written by a certain would-have-been Countess Varley. It made me think of you. Of us, at that time. At the Academy.

(She never stayed in one place. Bernie told me — _me_ , can you believe it Fe? — that she'd travelled a lot after the war before settling at the monastery again. 

She's visited the Gautier estate a few times over the past few years. Less frequently, recently; I think she actually likes her job. I have a few of her novels in my library. All of them, actually.

It's been a long time.) 

When I say once, I mean at the Officer's Academy. She doesn't write a lot of it: poetry, I mean, but she has a few verses, published in little anthologies here and there. I liked this one the most, so I had pushed her to publish. It was one of her first, submitted to a poetry contest.

It's kind of surprising, isn't it? That we'd ended up being friends at the end of it all. 

Honestly, I haven't seen much of anyone since peace began taking root in the country. Doing it’s thing, you know? 

Dimi's doing great things, but don't tell him I said that. Really helps that the archbishop is with him too. Byleth's empty-eyed expression still scares me. I swear, it's like they're my parent or something. Still scrutinizes me in that same blank way every time I visit the castle. Fucking terrifying, really. 

Dedue and Ashe both reside at the castle now too. Ashe is working on getting published. He’s been keeping correspondance with Bernie about his book. 

I’ve visited the orphanage that Mercedes and Annie are working at. It’s good work that they’re doing. I visited them a handful of times over the past few years. 

Ingrid is a general now. She leads this huge fucking squadron of pegasus knights and it’s horrifying. I’m scared she’s going to send them after my ass for hitting on her grandma. 

I'd always hoped that you'd show your face around here a couple times. I hired you partly because I'd heard that the Death Blade _himself_ was my old pal Fe. 

Who came up with that nickname, anyway? It's two-thirds humiliating and one-third badass. Not enough badass, if I say so myself. 

The time after the war. You were always restless, like you wanted to go somewhere, fight someone. And fight you fucking did! Seiros, Fe; you picked so many fights with me and Dimitri. Ingrid was lucky and never got jumped by you in the middle of the night, thank Seiros, but I think you still carried your Glenn-guilt everywhere with you. Yeah, I gave it a name. 

I hope you don't do that anymore. For the sake of the bandits or whatever you've been fighting off and for your team. That shit is scary; cut it out. Nothing compared to the stuff Dimitri had to deal with, I know, but you are not Dimitri. You're also not Glenn, or Rodrigue, but I like to imagine you are well aware of that kind of shit by now. 

I didn't think you'd leave. Of all the things I thought you would do, leaving was never one of them. 

I thought there were enough people to fend off here, enough battles to be won _in_ our country, but you told me you were leaving for the Empire, or the Alliance (you weren't sure — I wasn't sure either, but I was sure that you weren't sure. If you ask me, I think you just wanted to leave.) and surprisingly, I wasn't surprised. (Does that make sense? I hope that makes sense.) 

Either way, I was wrong. You left and it flipped all my fucking tables. 

Back to the poem; I would have thought that forever was at our disposal. Maybe it was wishful thinking. An illusion that came with our newfound peace. Peace we fought for together.

Annette is well. She still sings, sometimes. I think she has a few saved for your ears only, so come back soon. To listen to them.

I’m good too; His Majesty is good, everyone is fucking superb! 

We miss you, Felix. All of us see each other every once in a while. Hell, I even see the Count Gloucester every few moons. Laurence? Lozenge? L'orange? I know his name is Lorenz. This is a joke, if that’s not clear. 

I miss you. I also hope you’re doing good. I mean, I know you’re doing okay, but I still hope it. 

The promise we made is really fucking old, but I don't want to go breaking it anytime soon. I hope the same can be said for yourself. 

Take care of yourself. Drink enough water, especially when you're in the hotter regions of wherever the hell you are right now. 

~~Seiros, I hope you’re still alive. I pray for it every day.~~

I miss you. A lot. Hurts like shit, so just once, hesitate over your decision. Come back ~~, sweetheart~~. 

~~Yours,~~ ~~Sincerely,~~ ~~Love~~

~~With love,~~

Always yours,

Sylvain 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> let this mark my induction into three houses hell
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/hsw_mp3)


End file.
